Discarded Thoughts
by Manic In Peace
Summary: A cornucopia of drabbles Mainly about love, Mainly Maruaders-era Centric.
1. The Trouble with Love Is

_Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?_

It hurts a little at the beginning, the first time she says no. But, gradually, you can't feel it anymore, like when you're out in the cold and your toes hurt at first, but then you can't feel them at all. And it still hurts a little, but you pay it no heed, because really, man, buck up, weather can't take you down, you're a Gryffindor!

It was the same way with Lily.


	2. So You are to Me

_It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"_

He had no idea when he'd started thinking about Sirius _that way._ He was a friend, for Merlin's sake! When had _Oh, look, there's Sirius _become _Oh god, here comes Sirius, don't act like an idiot_? When had friendship become this great, awkward thing? Perhaps it's when his inane braying had become welcome and homey, or when the way he smelled after Beater's practice had gone from disgusting and chicken-y to completely and utterly wonderful. But this is not to cast the wrong image, no indeed, Remus didn't mind thinking about Sirius at all. What made it the worst was the fact that he had no idea how Sirius felt. Was this what it was like being a girl?


	3. I'm Only Sleeping

_If ever there is tomorrow when we're not together, there is something you must always remember: you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think, but the most important thing is, even if we're apart.. I'll always be with you._

She touched his face gently. Sirius was a different person when he slept. The line that wriggled itself between his eyebrows from worrying about his brother and friends and life disappeared, and his jaw fell a little slack, and sometimes he smiled. Not the boisterous, gloating laughter that showed its face during the day, but a simply happy smile. It wasn't exactly simple, though, because happy isn't simple. After the seven years of war she had seen through the eyes of the school and its members, she knew this, perhaps more than she showed during the day, and she knew how it took its toll on people, and Sirius especially. She didn't do this often, just sit and watch him sleep (in all honesty, she was creeping herself out), but when she did, the oddest, most insecure revelations came to her. Tonight, she realized he was youth incarnated, and she was age. It couldn't last forever, and like Peter Pan, she would grow old and barmy and he would stay here, at Hogwarts, sleeping, forever young. The alarm clock on his bedside table buzzed, and his eyes slid open carelessly. When they caught hers, they brightened instantly. He leaned in and kissed her, unaware and uncaring about the thoughts of the nighttime.


	4. The Reason

"_Promise me you'll never forget me because if I thought you would I'd never leave" _

----

He doesn't know exactly why he likes Sirius. Perhaps it's because he's a buoyant island out on Remus' life-ocean of studying and werewolfy-ness (He laughed at this thought. Sirius would hate to hear him describe him as an _island_), a sort of reprieve if you would, from reality. _He could be reality, you know… _Something deep inside him whispered.

Remus shook his head of the daydreaming foolishness, and continued to take notes on the Troll Wars.

----

A\N: Blahaha! I'm listening to pottercast… This will probly be the last one? Unless I come up with an under-200 word drabblydeal. If you can guess what all the quotes are from, review with it!! You will get my love and admiration!!


	5. Fall to Pieces

Love should be like a Polaroid: instant.

But it's not. It's a creeping, guilty sensation, slow as mud, surprising as age. It infects you and makes you thing life might stop if I can't tell you how much I love your laugh and your smell and the way your eyes crinkle when you smile. It wraps you in a porous comfort that only exists when we're together and makes you buoyant and addicted. The world slows rotation, for you and me. You ask what I want and I want to say 'I want _you_' but I can't because love hasn't crept up yet, and it isn't that important, is it?

It's just me.

A\N: Written for **Pinky Green's Quotes/Sentences Challenge. **


	6. The Geek in the Pink

_**This is the Disclaimer: **_**Consider yourself Disclaimed.**

_Mediocrity knows nothing higher than itself, but talent instantly recognizes genius~_

_Sir Arthur Conan Doyle _

He has idiosyncrasies. Of course he has. Those glasses he wears? They magnify his eyes and make them razor-sharp, until it seems like he can look into your soul and know things he shouldn't and probably some things you don't. And small things, too, like how he constantly upsets his hair so it never sits the same way twice or how his nose is just a little bit too long or how he always moves just moves a little too quickly.

And yet, you love him.

You have yours, too. Stubborn, you are. There's always a hoof waiting to be dug into the ground with you. And, in all honesty, your temper matches your hair: long and fiery, unbidden and uncontrollable. You pick your nails until they bleed when you're nervous, bite your lip and shake your head when you're angry, and only smile when you truly feel it. In short: you wear your heart proudly on the breast pocket of your cloak. You could never play poker.

And still, he loves you.

A/N: HAH! Caity Spoon challenged me to relate a JPLE fic to our Muggle Lit class today. We were reading Hound of the Baskervilles (great book! Read it! Plus the movie's coming out, and that looks BAD ASS!), so I based this fic off of a Sir Conan-Doyle quote. Also, I always pictured James would kind of have similar eyes to H.M. Dumbles… except less blue and more… hazel. I ALSO HATE HATE HATE when people make out that James and Lily don't have any imperfections. Everyone does, so that's dumb

Anywho/hoo. Enjoy. RnR. All that jazz.


	7. A Tes Souhaits

"You'll write every day?" the thin, black-haired boy asked uncertainly.

"Every day" his similar-looking father promised "If not more" This seemed to appease the boy.

"Do _try _and do well, won't you?" his mother asked, still hurriedly patting his suitcase, hoping they didn't forget anything.

The boy seized his trunk and smiled happily at his mother "It'll be great, mum, don't worry. I'm exited"

Her eyes warmed and she relaxed "Of course it will! Of course you are!"

His father quickly checked the clock. "The train'll be leaving soon. Say hullo to Minnie for me, Harry" he laughed.

His mother glared "Under no circumstances are you to call Professor McGonagall Minnie. Ever"

Harry cracked a huge grin at his parents, swiftly hugged them both, and boarded the scarlet train. All too soon, it was sliding out of the station, filling the room with fog up to it's cavernous ceilings.

And even sooner, the dream dissolved along with the fog and the grinning parents, and fourteen-year old Harry Potter was once again called down to make breakfast for the Dursleys.

---

A/N: Hah! Thought I'd taken a journey into AU-what-if-Lily-and-James-didn't-die-land (the land in which my denial lives), didn't you? Admit it!

No, I'm too much of a Canon Policewoman to do that. Sorz, all you AU'ers. Poor Harry can dream, though, can't he?

Um. Read it, Review it, please? Por favor? S'il vous plait? Dankashein? Shei-Shei? Balii? Bonvole? Kose mochem? Worche? Grawsi? Kudasai? Too sheh-eedz-leh-bah?

Come on, I deserve a review for knowing all that! Or, at least a Choco-Chip cookie, or something! Throw me a bone!

**Edit: **A Tes Souhaits means 'To Your Wishes' in French. It's usually used as a kind of 'God Bless You', but I figured it fit this situation. "Whatever, Harry. To your wishes. And your buns *glances at ass then slaps self* 11 years, just remember it. 11 years.


End file.
